


The Price of Empty Devotion

by HonestMistake



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blackmail, Father-Son Relationship, Good Dad Bad Person, Human Experimentation, M/M, Murder, Poisoning, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Unethical Medicine, Unrequited Love, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonestMistake/pseuds/HonestMistake
Summary: Verstael Besithia is a man of dedication. He devoted his life to the sciences, to his Emperor, to the child he broke the laws of nature itself to make and he'll be damned before he lets anyone take them from him.Fill for this prompt on the kinkmeme: http://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/3451.html?thread=4015995#cmt4015995





	1. Flesh and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the title, I feel that The Price of Empty Devotion fits more with the direction this story is heading in and the tone overall.

Verstael Besithia had been a coward in his youth, timid and overly cautious, partially by the nature of his personality and partially because his body had been weak and frail from his mothers womb. He'd been born too early and was so sickly and small the Doctors found little hope he would live to see his first birthday. He lived, just barely sustained by machines and science until his body grew strong enough to operate on it's own strength. His mind flourished where his body failed him, long days spent indoors with nothing but books for company nourished his curiosity but never sated it. He needed more, his dreams filled with universities and laboratories, his mind drawn to the science that sustained him in his youth like a moth to candle flame. 

He took to school like a chocobo takes to running soaking up knowledge like a sponge as he flew through his classes and skipped more grades than he took. He graduated at the top of his class at only thirteen and his education, the highlight of his life, came to a sudden horrifying end. His father would not allow him to leave for university and he could not afford to continue his schooling without the help of his family. Distraught he found himself being thrust into his father's line of work and hating every minute of it. He was a scientist not a mechanic and his mind was wasting away, it's only challenge adding up the cost of repairing cars in his fathers shop. It was too easy for him hardly even worth the bare minimum of effort.

His troubles didn't end at the loss of his passion for though his body was stronger, now no different than that of any other lad, he discovered that there were other things that set him apart from his peers besides the sharpness of his mind and the frailty of his youth. Unlike most of the young men in his age group he had never been drawn to supple curves and the swell of breasts. He found them intriguing but only in a scientific sense, the workings of the body male and female alike were fascinating, but he had none of the primal desire the other boys his age had for them. He found the male form more satisfying to behold, their voices more invigorating to hear, the smell and taste of them more intoxicating.

He held his desires close to his heart, unable to act on them when his father found those who sought intimacy in those of the same sex to be abominations deserving of death and nothing more. He'd heard the man rant for what felt like hours on end how people like him deserved to suffer for the workings of their hearts and so he spent his teenage years cowering in fear of his desires being discovered, suffocating under the thumb of a man who would see him dead for following the pull of his heart. Verstael learned to hide in plain sight and blend into the shadows, unnoticeable unless he wanted to be noticed. Cowardice was his shield and with it he survived both work and home. 

He coated his tongue in silvered words and learned how to flatter and kiss the asses of those who thought they were above him until his heart grew bitterly cold. He deserved more than this, he'd worked hard at his studies, his brilliance had been remarked upon by each and every one of his teachers. For five years he scrimped and saved and lived at home, unable to afford anything else, lamenting the ruination of his life.

His world changed forever when a young Iedolas Aldercapt took the Throne of Niflheim by force and held it with a fist of iron and silver tongue. He tore through the surrounding lands like wildfire taking each of them for the glory of the Empire, collecting them like jewels for his crown. He laughed in the face of those who tried to hold him back and when the bureaucrats and aristocrats brought him their daughters and sisters to demand he take a bride Iedolas had them thrown from his palace. 

The rumors started then that the Emperor though strong and handsome, surely able to hold the attention of any woman he chose, preferred the company of men and with each passing year he remained unwed the rumors spread and grew stronger. Verstael sought out these rumors with the same hunger he'd held for the sciences, he listened to them copied them down in his notebooks and gathered evidence that suggested the rumors were not just conjecture. He held onto them like his life depended on it because if the Emperor himself could seek out the company of men then so could he. 

He grew in courage as he soaked in the tales and rumors of their Emperor and worshipfully listened to his speeches until his eyes were opened to the weapons he had at his disposal. He was not strong, not in the way the Emperor was but he was dangerous, his mind was formidable and like a viper in human skin he had poison at his disposal. The death of his father under so called mysterious circumstances gave him the means to see himself through university. The insurance money more than enough to pay for an apartment of his own and a place in the University of Gralea. He studied there finally back where he belonged and dedicated himself to the sciences, determined to be of use to his Emperor, this god among men who had stolen his heart when he'd shown him the keys to his freedom.

His studies drew the attention of the military and eager to impress he showed them his workings and theories in biomechanics, engineering, and gene sequencing. He showed them plans for soldiers, created to be stronger, faster, better than any mortal man. He walked them through the methods and resources he'd need and they offered him a place among their ranks. It was lowly at first, he started out as an intern but he applied himself to it as he had in every other area he held passion in until he was promoted and given more resources to dedicate to his work. He was promoted again and again as his studies proved to be the most fruitful and profitable until all of Zegnautus Keep was under his command. 

He flourished as the head scientist, building an army for his emperor gene by gene and then cell by cell. He developed and built artificial wombs and tanks where they could monitor, nourish, and contain their creations. He designed armor and weaponry for his soldiers, made them more dangerous and easier to use. He encouraged creativity in his underlings urging them to reach higher and fight harder for what they wanted. He was the king of his own little corner of the world and he ruled it with all the skill he learned from watching his Emperor. 

He'd thought he'd reached the top of the ladder and climbed as far as he was able to go when he was given a seat on the Emperors Council and his heart nearly forgot how to beat. He primped and changed what felt like a thousand times before he was led through the palace and into his seat. He'd walked on air the entire way but when the time came meeting the Emperor in person was nothing like he'd dreamed it would be and his vain imaginations of love at first sight or even the faintest recognition of his devotion crashed and burned in flames. He was not the center of his Emperors attentions, in fact the Empeor barely noticed him. Instead his love was enthralled by the most flamboyantly dressed outlandish peacock Verstael had ever seen. The newly elected Chancellor Ardyn Izunia dripped with saccharine charm and when he talked he held the Emperors attention like a magnet. 

Verstael hated him, cursed his name, his children, his ancestors as soon as he was back to the safe sanctuary of his own labs. His sanctuary was disturbed not even a day later when Ardyn Izunia invaded his labs with the favor of the Emperor. His arrival to the Keep was both a bane and a boon to Verstael. The man had a deviously brilliant mind and his suggestions often proved to yield desirable results when applied to the burgeoning MT Program, but the man also held the favor of the Emperor and Versteal could find nothing but hatred for this man who had so easily gathered everything he'd set his heart on. 

The day the Chancellor left the facility he drowned himself in alcohol mourning the loss of his hope to hold the heart of a man he could never have. There was nothing he could give the Emperor that Ardyn could not provide or improve on. Drink had never been a vice of his but the burn of the liquid rushing down his throat helped to hold the shattered remnants of his heart together. It was under the influence of the congratulatory bottles of brandy he'd never even touched before that the idea came to him. A way for him to earn a place by the Emperors side and in his heart. He'd make him a gift, no more than a gift, he'd give him the future Ardyn never could, provide for him an heir worthy of him, the MT Program was ripe for it.

He used his own flesh and blood to make all the MT's and only his own. Every one of them was born from the machinations of his mind and so it was only right that his body be their foundation. He dedicated himself to his work endured procedure after procedure sacrificed tissue, marrow, bone, and blood, all to bring his creations to life. They were not his children though some of the interns and lesser scientists insisted they were. He knows better, they are simply empty shells made for a purpose and primed to be programed to fulfill it, but they are the seed from which his greatest work will be born. Even so they will never be his children, not the way his newest creation will be.

He buys the trust of the Emperor's personal doctor with sweet words and interest in the mans incredible skill. He offers his sound advice and eventually finds a way to convince the man to take the samples he'll need to bring his creation to life with the help of a few skeletons that the good doctor surely wouldn't want uncovered from their graves in his closet. When the time comes for him to collect his samples he offers the doctor a drink that gives him his own place among the skeletons. He holds the samples close pressing the cold case that contains them to his chest. His hands shake but his grip remains strong, his eyes water but no tears fall, his heart pounds against the inside of his chest screaming for escape. He listens for sirens, for an alarm, and searches for flashing red lights and any other sign that his crime has been uncovered as he runs back to the safety of his labs. 

He sets to work as soon as he sets foot in his personal lab where it's easier for him to do what must be done without being discovered. He places his samples in the refrigeration unit and sets the calibrations on the artificial womb, checks, and rechecks them until he is satisfied, every nutrient tank is checked and filled, every hose is tightened, the inside is cleaned and sterilized until it shines. Once the womb is ready he takes the samples and begins the process of creating his child. He wants only the best for his child, his brilliant mind, the Emperors strength, the features don't matter as much in comparison. He personally finds the Emperors features more handsome than his own and it feels right that his heir resemble the Emperor ore so than himself. It feels like it only takes moments before he's completed the zygote, but he knows that the process has eaten away days maybe even a week. Still with pride he places the beginnings of his child into the womb after he fills it with the elixir that will bring it life. 

Months pass in a blur for Verstael, every spare moment is one he spends watching his child develop. He spends hours staring in awe as it's body grows more and more human, his eyes scanning for any defects or imperfections as the limbs and organs begin to form. Suspicions develop as he throws more and more of himself into his project as do the rumors but none of them skirt close enough to the truth for him to worry. Most agree that he's working on the next stage of the MT program and when he decides it would make a good cover he starts to call the child Project Mercury. 

He speaks to the child often, has even installed a set of specially designed speakers in the womb so that his child will know the sound of his voice and the beat of his heart. Most of the time he reads his notes out loud asking rhetorical questions that the child cannot answer but amuse him anyway. Some times he spends a few hours reciting the poetry he was forced to read in his schooling or reading one of the silly children's books he'd bought the child on a whim. Sometimes he plays music, mostly alternating between classical and lullaby's. There are only a handful of times when he can bring himself to sing, but those are the times the child reacts the most.

When the child, a boy, is fully formed and enough time has passed for him to survive outside of the womb he starts the process of freeing him from the machine. First the stabilization platform is raised to support the child as the womb drains and heavily sterilized air fills the chamber. Next the nutritional support cables release one by one until the main umbilical which cannot release automatically is all that remains. He releases the pressure seal and reaches inside twisting the umbilical release as he pulls the newborn into his arms. 

He cradles the boy against his chest rocking him back and forth to the tune of a song about chocobos one of the interns had taken to singing on duty when she thinks he will not hear it. The little thing blinks up at him with bright blue eyes it's face scrunched as it screams at the sudden assault of sensations of a brand new world on his sensitive form. He hushes it with soft whispers of sweet nothings and repetitions of the song until the screaming is replaced by gentle sniffles. Tiny chubby fingers reached up for him on tiny hands, curling and uncurling trying to grab his face. Each one perfectly formed and delicate just like the five little toes on each perfect foot.

His newest creation spits in the face of nature and the limits of mankind. The limits of natural reproduction have been shattered, this little perfect being in his arms is the proof. His little one is born of two fathers, their genes splintered apart and brought together without the aid of a female egg or womb. The baby is wrinkly, hairless, and pink and if it hadn't been the creation of his own hands he would have thought it ugly, but looking at it now all he can see is perfection. He is by blood the son of Verstael Besithia in all his brilliance and Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt the one person in Eos that he found worthy of adoration. 

"Welcome to the world Mercury, it's all going to be yours one day, I'll make sure of it."


	2. The Emperor of Tomorrow

The world will have to wait, the day will come when his son is revered and his genius is known, but Verstael is no fool. A fool would parade the boy around now and damn the circumstances, but there is too much at risk not to take the proper precautions. There are lines that have been crossed and tracks that need to be covered. Making the boy was only the first step and one he can admit he took without thinking. Secrecy is of the utmost importance, he can’t lose his son, he won’t let anything take his boy away, not disease or betrayal or loose lips. 

Timing is key, his Emperor needs a strong heir, one who can shoulder the weight of an Empire as grand as Niflheim and rise above those who would seek to cut him down. He can’t present the boy as he is now, he’s far from ready. Mercury is a delicate little thing and the method of his birth has left him more at risk to falling ill than a child born the natural way. Even with his seeming success in the boy’s creation there is no guarantee that the boy will live. He needs to keep a careful eye on the boy away from the hustle and bustle of the palace. Preferably a place where the environment can be tightly controlled and there is no place he trusts more with the life and safety of his son than his personal lab. He's practically lived there for months already and in the event that anything did go wrong he'd have everything he would need to keep his son alive within reach. 

One day his son will have an entire palace but for now the lab will suffice. It’s fitting in a way almost poetic, his son a creation of science, a prince of science being raised in a laboratory. The soft colors, plush toys, and baby furniture he’d set up clash with the industrial fixtures, grey concrete walls, and repurposed sample fridges, but Verstael finds it acceptable considering the circumstances. There are few people besides himself who have been granted access to his private labs and they rarely take enough interest in his work to go sniffing about in the testing rooms. 

Mercury shifts squirming slightly and his attention is drawn back to the little bundle in his arms. He hushes the boy before his fussing has the chance to grow into tears. He spends what feels like hours simply holding the boy, taking in the bright blue eyes that look up at him with so much trust. His mind thrums with the potential he’s unlocked, he’s created life, molded it and shaped it, built it from practically nothing. He’s holding the future in his arms the Emperor of Tomorrow and the feeling is addictive, he doesn’t want to let go, he could spend forever like this rocking his son in his arms.

Eventually for the boy’s own safety he has to set him down. He is strong but his arms can only take so much before he has to give them a rest. He places Mercury in a soft white basinet in the testing room he'd set aside for a nursery and rocks him gently with a softly hummed tune. Once the boy is calmed down and nearly slumbering he sets up the changing table and gets everything ready. Once the cloth diaper is set he reaches into the cradle and places the boy down making sure to line it up so that he can get the diaper on with little trouble and with a few gentle motions he’d taken the time to learn and perfect the diaper was on. With the diaper taken care of, he buttons his son up in a little pale yellow onesie with a print of a cartoonish cactuar taking up most of the space on the chest and stretched like a rainbow over it were the words ‘Daddy’s Little Monster’.

He smiled down at the child fingers gently stroking the soft peach fuzz on the crown of the baby’s head before he lifted him back into his arms “You’re going to have the world, all of it kneeling at your feet. If you’re anything like your other Father not even the Astrals can stand in your way. Insomnia will fall before you if your other father doesn’t get to it first, he’s an ambitious man you know. You’ll be quite the same I’ll imagine, nothing could keep me from what I wanted either, of course you’ll have more than I did growing up. I’ll support you no matter what path you choose. Whatever you want is yours, within reason of course, you have my brains and I won’t see you waste them.”

Verstael slowly lowers him back down onto the mattress and makes his way over to the mini kitchen humming a soft song to keep the boy calm. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

He fixes up a bottle heating the formula on a hotplate, the process easy enough for someone who spent a lifetime mixing chemicals and preparing samples, and throws a soft dishtowel over his shoulder to save his clothes from a mess. The motions are easy, even soothing in their familiarity, helping to calm down the steadily growing panic in the back of his mind. He tests the bottle on his arm and finds the temperature to be warm but nowhere near hot enough to do any damage, and takes the bottle over to his son. He puts it down on a little nightstand next to the crib and cradles the boy in one arm using the other to pick up the bottle and hold it to his lips. The boy whimpers and whines turning away his head and pushing away the bottle with little hands.

"Hmm I should've known you'd be a stubborn one but you need to eat. I didn't spend so many sleepless nights making you just to let you starve yourself." He says gently as Mercury continues to fuss and squirm away from the bottle.

He hums softly and seats himself in the rocking chair lazily pushing it back and forth with his feet as he waits for his persistence to pay off. Mercury continues to fuss but the bottle isn't going anywhere and after a short while he grows curious enough to mouth at the nipple. The instant the milk touches his tongue his whining gives way to contented suckling. Verstael chuckles as he cradles the boy closer to his chest taking in the way the boy's tiny fingers grasp for the bottle now that he knows what’s in it. "And now you'll eat."

He keeps an eye on the bottle making sure that Mercury isn’t eating too fast and lets the rocking relax him until Mercury finishes his bottle. Once the bottle is finished he gently places Mercury on his towel clad shoulder and pats him gently until he expels any air he swallowed while eating. He pulled Mercury down from his shoulder and let him curl up against his chest his eyes blinking slowly closed as he drifted off to sleep. 

He sets his son down in the crib next to his bed and checks to make sure he stays asleep. Once he’s certain that Mercury is settled in he lays down in his own bed but sleep eludes him. Instead of drifting off into slumber he watches Mercury and his attempts to close his eyes are ruined each time he’s sized by a sudden spike of worry. As such he's wide awake the first time Mercury wakes and cries for him and he's at his side in an instant. He holds his son snug against his chest whispering wordless comforting sounds as he sways gently back and forth. Fear curls around him like smoke as he holds the squirming baby in his arms. He is a father, this is no longer an experiment, no longer something he is prepared for, he doesn't know the variables, he doesn't have clear instructions to follow. It is a primal kind of terror that rushes through him, one born of the desire to protect his child at any cost, and he will a little more blood on his hands would be worth it if it protected his boy.

Mercury's cries taper off into a sniffling whimper as Verstael holds him against his chest. A quick check reveals that Mercury is in need of a change and while his first adventure in changing Mercury isn’t as bad as it could have been it is by no means pleasant. The smell is vile but he’s endured worse odors in his study of the starscourge and the cleanup is a bit more difficult with an actual baby than it had been with the doll. For one thing Mercury’s limbs move and trying to wipe down and then cover a squirming child is a lot harder to do when they’re wide awake and active. Still he manages to get the dirty diaper off and sealed away, the baby cleaned and powdered, and a new diaper pinned in place.

He spends the rest of that night making bottles and changing diapers between cups of the strongest coffee he’s had since his years cramming for exams and studying through the nights. When morning arrives, he takes his work back to bed with him filling out paper work on his laptop and signing papers on a dictionary while keeping an eye on the Mercury. Thus, begins his new routine, he sleeps in fits and wakes early spending every waking hour watching over Mercury while trying to keep up with his work and drinking enough caffeine to poison a man. 

He quickly discovers as the weeks pass that Mercury is a needy little thing. His boy requires so much, but that is to be expected from infants, and in the end, it proves that he is so much more than the ilk that form the MT units. Unlike Mercury they don’t need him. Before his son had been born on the few occasions that he was required to visit them and make sure that the program was running smoothly they were unnaturally quiet and the monstrous ichor in their veins was already rending its changes. They almost seemed to be watching him, their eyes reflecting light like predators in the darkened room, glowing in shades of red and yellow. It had felt more like walking into a den filled wild beasts than the hospital nursery it was designed to resemble. 

His son is nothing like those empty shells, Mercury is loud and energetic, even now, and when he finally gets his feet under him Verstael knows he will have his hands full. His boy fusses when he’s put down except during bath time where splashes and flings water everywhere squealing in joy as he soaks his father. He sleeps for two hours at a time no more and no less and most often he wakes screaming like a banshee until he is soothed by his father’s arms, a fresh diaper, or a warm bottle.

Verstael adjusts accordingly thankful that his tendency to pull all-nighters in the pursuit of knowledge had prepared him for this. He learns to work one handed out of necessity, signing documents and studying files with Mercury nestled up against his chest. His skills at multitasking are put to the test and he excels by sheer force of will, he can’t afford to fall behind in his work and he can’t leave his son alone, he has no choice but to succeed. He masters the art of texting and off the cuff excuses for when he gets a call that Mercury interrupts or when someone tries to cajole him out of his personal labs. He changes diapers so many times that he can do it without thinking his hands going through the motions automatically until it’s as easily as taking a sample. 

The camera he set aside to document the first few years of his son’s life quickly fills up with the most frivolous pictures he’s ever taken. His precise documentation never stood a chance as it’s quickly over taken by shots he’d taken just because it amused him to do so, often because Mercury was making a face. His camera really gets a workout when Mercury takes a shine to one of the toys. It’s a plush chocobo with bright yellow down feathers and black glass eyes that’s three times as big as he is. His arms are too small for him to hold it but he makes a valiant effort and Verstael allows it even though it sometimes requires that he must be rescued from his toy. 

His attempts to hold his giant chocobo are just one of the many things he’s found since Mercury’s birth that makes him wish for friends or at the very least confidants he can trust. He wants to share the many photo’s he’s taken and the tales he’s gathered in his efforts to care for his son. There isn’t much to tell yet, just a few amusing tales of being woken up late at night only to find that Mercury had somehow managed to lose his current favorite toy, besides his ultimate favorite giant chocobo, and the time he accidentally grabbed a freshly washed baby blanket instead of a towel when he stepped out of the shower. It’s almost painful to have no one to share it with, no one else will be there to see it when Mercury’s babbling and cooing gives way to first words and he learns how to move around himself. The Emperor won’t be there to cheer the boy on or reach out his hands with the boy toddling toward him with his first uneven steps. He slams the door on that fantasy, he can’t afford it.

That is the one dark cloud hanging over him, he feels like a thief as he coos down at the child he bloodied his hands again to make. There is a part of him that regrets his choice to hide the boy from everyone, even his other Father. His Emperor should have known his heir from the very beginning, should have seen his child take form and grow from practically nothing. His other Father should be here now celebrating the birth of his heir, should have held him in his arms and named the boy himself. It is his right as The Emperor, as a father to know his son. 

Guilt tries to take residency in him as the boy waves his little arms in the air and reaches for him with those perfect fingers, but it doesn’t take root, how could it when he has his son. And it’s not like his Emperor will never know his child, one day he will be as important a fixture in his son’s life as he is in the Empire, but until then Verstael will protect his son through all the hardships. The nights are sleepless, the days are endless, his work suffers, the days and weeks blur together, and he hasn't had a moment to himself in a week, but he is not miserable. In fact, he can’t help but feel that he is the happiest he's ever been in his life. 

Happiness is a fleeting thing.


	3. Treasonous Snakes

The day that would become known as That Day, a hateful dark thing to hang over him like the shadow of the reaper, started with Mercury crying. He was dead to the world, trapped in a slumber brought about by sheer exhaustion, his worn and aching body had collapsed into bed like a statue blown apart at the knees sinking into his mattress like it was his salvation. He’d only just begun to dream the dark nothingness of slumber giving way to a haze of color and sound that was beginning to piece itself together when a piercing cry tore him from the blissful abyss of sleep. His heart hammered, his pulse racing through his veins as the scream rang through the room again. That was not one of Mercury’s normal cries, he wasn't crying because he was hungry or needed changed, this sounded pained. 

Vivid memories of his failures flashed behind his eyes as his nostrils filled with the smell of copper and incinerator smoke. His skin tingled with heat even as his innards turned to ice. He leapt to his feet and ran toward the crib a black hole forming in his abdomen when he couldn’t see anything but an empty space where his son should be. He runs from the room following the sound as Mercury’s screams ring in his ears, his blood freezing over when the cries suddenly cease. He comes to a stop at his office the sound of screaming now replaced by the sound of his rocking chair creaking. His stomach drops, lightning striking through his bones, thunder roaring through his head. 

“You can come in now, he’s finally cried himself out.” A thick oily voice beacons him to the tune of the creaking of his rocking chair and the whimpering of his son.

Verstael's eyes turn sharp as daggers as he marches into the room, his steps thundering against the sparse carpet. His nostrils flare his eyes burning in his rage as he takes in the Chancellors ancient filthy rags surrounding his boy and the smudge of oily residue on his red cherubic cheeks. He feels hatred hot and thick ooze up in his heart pumping through his veins as his mind runs through every single thing that that filth could have done to his child. He forces it down, drawing on every ounce of patience he had to put himself in control of the situation. He nods down at his son, forcing himself to think of him as another experiment. He can’t afford to lose control here, the timing’s all wrong, the risk is too high. 

The Chancellor reaches up with one hand to brush the hair away from his ear showing it off like a teenage girl with a new pair of earrings. “I think my ears will still be ringing when I leave.”

“If you’re here about my absence from the labs lately Chancellor then I’m afraid you’ve stumbled upon the cause.” He manages to project his usual brand of unaffected humor for Mercury’s sake. 

His son needs him, and he cannot let his son be hurt because he can’t remain in control.

“And what brilliant work you’ve done Verstael, then again, your work has always been nothing short of exceptional.” The Chancellor said looking at him with a challenge hiding in the amber of his eyes. 

Suspicion bubbled up inside him from a churning cauldron of distrust, the look of a man plotting hung about the Chancellor like a cloud of flies drawn in by decay. Something dark and restless paced inside his chest, a killer’s instinct perhaps, recognizing another of its own. He forced a genial smile, one that he used when dealing with the particularly stubborn imbeciles that were sadly necessary for running a lab. “Mercury isn’t an MT Chancellor, he’s my son.”

Ardyn smiled like he’d just sighted an old friend tucking Mercury closer to his chest. He looked down at the boy fond smile turning maliciously mocking on his lips as he gently pinched Mercury's cheek between his fingers like an elderly aunt, his son whining in displeasure. “Pitiable thing, he’s still trying to convince himself that you’re human, but we know otherwise don’t we little one?” 

Verstael’s mouth filled with poison, curses, vows of pain, and promises of suffering building like flame that he swallows down like burning liquor. He knows this game well enough to recognize the cards being laid out and tucked into sleeves for later, this is a battle of will and wit and one where he's got the lesser hand. “That’s enough Chancellor, we can discuss this after I’ve settled my son in for the night.”

“Now, now Verstael I’m not here just to poke the hornets’ nest, I’m here as a friend, one of the few you have who isn’t six feet under.” Ardyn said his voice curving suggestively at the end teeth bared in a smile that reeked of bloodthirst under the thin veil of approachability. 

“I don’t have any need of fair weather friends Izunia. Now if you’ll please excuse me I have to attend to my son.” Verstael walked up to him to take his son out of his arms but Ardyn turned just enough to show that he had no intention of letting go of his son yet leaning back and settling his feet onto the desk.

“I have an umbrella and your Mercury seems to have settled down it would be a shame to move him and start up the waterworks all over again just when he’s gotten used to me.” Ardyn smirks as Verstael tries to burn holes into his head with his eyes. He sweeps off the harshness of the glare with a generous wave of his free arm. 

He smiled genially and Verstale got the impression that if he hadn't been mindful of the infant in his arms he would have stood to his feet removed his hat and bowed at the waist in an exaggerated expression of goodwill. Instead he simply rocked back and stroked Mercury's cheek with his knuckles. “Besides I came by to warn you, your presence has been dearly missed in the main laboratory. I’m afraid your days of hiding in this lab are quickly coming to an end. If you keep this up then the Emperor might find out what you’ve been up to, and if that happens well I’m afraid that you’ll be joining his doctor in Titan’s grasp.” 

“Turning to idle threats should be beneath the Chancellor of Niflheim.” Verstael said with an unaffected air that sounded friendlier than it was. “You’re disrespecting yourself and your position with your pointless frivolities, you’re here because somehow I’m a threat to you, one that must currently be too valuable to dispose of given that I’m still among the living."

“I already told you I’m not here to threaten you, but I can understand why you would doubt me. I'm simply trying to warn you, after all love makes fools of even the greatest of men and you’ve been quite foolish to make a mistake that paints you as an enemy of state. Tell me Verstael how long will you be allowed to live once someone decides to unearth all those skeletons you keep buried in your closet.” The Chancellor smiles too sweetly as he cradles Mercury to his chest, as smug as a cat surrounded by bloodied feathers in an empty birdcage. 

“I can manage just fine on my own, whatever skeletons I may have aren't so easily disturbed. Now quit talking in circles and tell me why are you really here?” Verstael asked, his voice taking on a note of venom.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said your work was exceptional, I happen to be quite the fan, even your failures have proven to be of more merit to Niflheim than most other scientists successes, even the tragedies bely greatness. Such a shame really how often your projects failed in the early stages of your work. So many of your creations lost to organ failure, infections, and cellular defects. I recall there was that first successful batch, what a triumph that was until that nasty bout of the flu that preyed upon their increased susceptibility to disease, but you managed that little issue quite well until that little issue with pneumonia after a simple training exercise in the rain. And all that's without taking the Scourge into account. Yet it is thanks to failures like those that you’ve managed to create the greatest military force the world has ever seen. Science is quite messy isn’t it?" Ardyns voice was noose like crawling around his neck, ready to pull tight at any moment and leave him an empty shell of a dangling body. 

"And you're here to what remind me that in the past my work has failed, I've gotten a lot better since my first feeble attempts at cloning the human genome. I haven't had any major failures like that for years." He hadn't and Mercury was perfect, there was no way he was going to let some foolish lackey say otherwise.

“You didn't think you were invited onto our dear Emperors council because you were loyal, did you?" Ardyn paused to let the non-sequitur settle into the conversation as he rocked the finally settling Mercury in his arms.

"Of course I do why else would he see fit to appoint me." Verstael hissed, his pride rising up inside him like a threattened cat. 

His head turned to regard Verstael with a look one might give a foolish child who had confidently blurted out the wrong answer to an easy question in class. "Well loathe as I am to disappoint you, The Emperor is not in the habit of keeping loyal men close to his side, his Council is a pit of vipers for a reason. He prefers the company of weasels, snakes, and traitors to loyalists, he likes to be kept on his toes you see, and you have quite the talent for treachery Verstael. I must say I'm impressed. You've done more in a year than most of those stuffy politicians have managed to do with a lifetime."

“I'm no traitor!” His voice went dark and hard his eyes flashing. He wasn't a traitor, he couldn't be, everything he'd done, everything he'd sacrificed, everything he'd destroyed it was all for the glory of his Emperor. 

“Tongues do tend to wag when there’s something suspicious going on and you’ve managed to create quite the scandal to be unearthed. I can only imagine the webs those spiders will spin about you, the madman who killed the Emperor’s Doctor so he could steal his DNA and grow his bastard son in a lab." Ardyn tsked at him like he was a small child caught sticking his hands into the cookie jar right before dinner.

"And as if that wasn’t enough you kept the little monster a secret and raised it to be loyal to you and you alone. Of course, you must have plans to dispatch of the Emperor, why else would you want this thing. With the chaos surrounding his death there will be a mad dash for the throne, but blood will be all that matters in the end and there you’ll be with your perfect clockwork Prince, the only blood relative the Emperor has remaining. With the only real heir to the throne ready to serve as your puppet all you’d need to do to claim the throne for yourself is pour a little poison in the right cup. That is your preferred method isn’t it Verstael?” Ardyn’s voice was layered with false innocence and shock his smile reminding him of his professors overly confident fools the lot of them. 

“I would never raise my hand against the Emperor!” Frustration, indignity, and fear tore the words from his chest and he felt the blow like a physical thing. He’d staggered and now The Chancellor knew he had the winning hand, he was being toyed with played like a fiddle in Izunia’s omniscient hands.

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t." Ardyn's voice took on a layer of foux sympathy and the only thing that stayed Verstaels outrage was the boy he had cradled in his arms. "You love him too much to allow his blood to spill on your hands. Madman though you may be you aren’t motivated by greed. No lust and pride are where your sins lie and you have so many of them to your name. Still secrecy might be in your favor, who’s to say what would happen if you were to bring the boy before the Emperor."

"The one thing I know for certain is that you wouldn’t be allowed to keep it. No, the boy would be raised in the Palace by an army of nannies and they would speak of a young woman of low birth who shone with elegance and poise, captured the Emperors heart, and died a tragic death. They might say she died in childbirth, but with the way the world is leaning they would no doubt speak of an evil Lucian spy who murdered her in her sleep and tried to make off with the infant. Of course, you wouldn’t be allowed to interact with him if they didn’t have you hung for treason. You’d be but a distant figure to your own son, a man in the history books and newspapers, of little personal importance to him.” The Chancelor looked down at the fingers of his free hand like he was inspecting them for the dirt he'd sorted through digging up his secrets.

“And you’re trying to prevent this out of the goodness of your heart.” He spat as he crept forward trying to think of a way to get his son out of that monster's hands and coming up with nothing that wouldn't put the boy at risk.

“Oh, please we both know that the only reason I’d ever help you is if it did something for me in the long run.” He stood and something about the way that he moved sent shudders through Verstael, it felt unnatural, predatory, inhuman. He held out Mercury with a smirk his eyes seeming to say 'you can have your baby back now I'm done with it' as Verstael rushed forward and cradled his son against his chest glaring at the monster that had dared to touch him with murder in his eyes. 

Chancellor Izunia grinned, teeth too sharp with eyes too feral to be considered human, as he walked past him before turning back and tipping his hat that same smile still lurking on his lips. “I’m looking forward to our next meeting Verstael, until then do take care of our little Princely MT. I do think he'll be very important in the future.”

"You won't live to see it."

"Oh, I'd love to see you try and keep that promise." The Chancellor purred with a wink over his shoulder. "See you soon." 

He watched the viper slink off into the shadows until he vanished into the keep holding his son close to him until his knees stopped shaking. He cradled Mercury against his chest whispering soothing words as he pressed kisses to the downy blonde of his hair until Mercury’s tears died down into hiccups and sniffles. A scratching feeling against his cheek drew his attention to his son’s wrist his eyes widening in horror as red splotches peeked from beneath the bandage. He unwound the gauze feeling like the scourge itself had taken root in him. His teeth clench his body tense as he sees a splash of black through the gauze as it falls away.

He turns over his son’s wrist feeling something inside him break as he saw the swollen red surrounding a black mark on his wrist, one of diamonds, bars, and numbers. Poison wouldn’t be enough, torture wouldn’t be enough, death wouldn’t be enough, nothing he ever did would ever be enough to sate his rage. He would break him, take him apart piece by piece, lure him down into the darkest depths of his labs and let every dark thought he’d ever mulled over in secret loose. There would be nothing left of the Chancellor by the time he got through with that beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait guys. This chapter was a pain in the butt to write until I decided to just let Ardyn take over like the drama queen he is.


End file.
